PS 3525 




.fl2915 


^B^i¥'''' 


M5 




1921 




Copy 1 









• , ^1 




Class 



Bookii 



r?S352f 



GopyriglitlJ^. 



CDPMRIGHT DEPOSIT. 

» 



WHO PLANTS A TREE 



WHO PLANTS 
A TREE 



BY 
WILLIAM F. McSPARRAN 




NEW YORK 

AUTHORS & PUBLISHERS CORPORATION 
4th Avenue and 30th Street 
M c M X X I 






qt\ 



Copyright, 1921, by the 

Authors & Publishers Corporation 



DEC 30 1921 
@niA654.286 

vv« f 



WHO PLANTS A TREE 

WHO PLANTS A TREE 

CANTO I 

Who journeys up, who journeys down, 
Through country ways or peopled town, 
Must e'er avow this truth with me: 
A sage is he who plants a tree. 
For, if he reaps as he hath sown, 
As grows his tree so grows his own 
Expanse of soul, in branch and root 
And blooms that swell to ripe, full fruit. 
For, when its growth the tree has made, 
Its spreading branches cast a shade 
Where men may pause, or children play, 
Or birds sing out their roundelay 
Within the sweet, mysterious shade. 
All laud him who this bower has made, 

CANTO II 

The tree beside a spring may grow. 
Where waters run and breezes blow, 

5 



WHO PLANTS A TREE 

And man and beast and bird, athirst. 
Seek solace there, to quaff the first 
Of draughts bestowed upon mankind : 
A draught that leaves no sting behind ; 
Where thanks will fully pay the score, 
Where each will take just one sip more 
For luck, or lest there may not be 
Another haunt of greenery 
Upon their way, nor any spring 
Refreshing, free, and welcoming. 

I see the birds from far and near 
Come to the place without a fear, 
A-panting on a sumrner day, 
Enjoy the shade, and sip away 
Their dainty thirst. Then comes along 
The careless boy who hums a song, — 
Both score and tune are doubtless wrong. 
But, after all, a melody 
That fits his soul and tells that he 
Is skilled in boyhood's minstrelsy. 
Butt one suspender serves to hold 
His trousers, with one leg uprolled 
Above the knee, the other torn 
And tattered in a warfare borne 

6 



WHO PLANTS A TREE 

Of youthful strife; the higher rips 

That came from many slides and sHps, — 

These really show but little hurt, 

So filled are they with parts of shirt. 

'Tween smiling lips and dancing eyes 

His freckle-zone sunshiny lies ; 

Beneath his old hat's raveled brim 

The cooling breeze caresses him. 

He drinks his fill, then sighs regret 

To quit the pleasant place just yet : 

No bird nor buitterfly nor bee 

From care or thought could be more free. 

Now slowly down the dusty road, 
With lagging step, as if his load 
Across his stooping shoulder borne 
Too heavy were for one so shorn 
Of youthful vim, his eyes downcast. 
Ashamed with looking on his past, 
A stranger comes. The gladsome sound 
Of whispering leaves, the shade around 
Invite his arid soul. The spring 
Extends its liquid welcoming. 
Long, long since he an inn has found 
Where hospitalities abound, — 

7 



WHO PLANTS A TREE 

Nor rank, nor caste, nor even race. 
Denied the freedom of the place. 
He findeth here democracy, 
Beside the spring beneath the tree. 

A hurried thrush in ecstasy 

Flings out his thrilling melody, — 

The air's evangel, — he to sing 

A sluggish soul's awakening! 

Perchance the stranger's depths are stirred 

By tree and spring and song of bird, 

So that, repentant, now his face 

Will turn to that afar-off place 

Where 'waits a father, who must yearn 

To see the prodigal return. 

Next, see the horse prick up his ear. 
He knows that shade and drink are near. 
He shakes his rein, to have more play. 
And then he drinks and drinks away; 
And noses in the cooling trough. 
As if he ne'er could get enough. 
The driver, too, drinks heartily, 

8 



IV H O PLANTS A TREE 

And says : "Old hoss, most kind is he 
Who planted by this spring a tree." 

CANTO III 

The tree may glorify a spot, 

Where foot of stranger cometh not, 

Where love and labor's common lot 

Make holy ground, — a peaceful place, 

W^here one grown weary of the pace 

Of hurried men aside may stray 

And live one good, untroubled day. 

There birds may build, and rear their young, 

While songs are made and songs are sung. 

To carry far on birdling tongue, — 

Sweet minstrel tale for wood and lea! — 

The praise of him who plants a tree. 

Beneath that tree's enchanted ground 
Fond dreams and fancies e'er abound. 
Perchance the fairy folk come there 
And play the pranks that fairies dare 
In abandon of revelry 
In all their elfin mystery. 

9 



WHO PLANTS A TREE 

The poet there will find a theme 

And weave in verse the glint and gleam 

Of that transcendent Hfe men miss 

By being too absorbed in this, — 

There make his easy fancies rhyme ^ 

With all the moods of summertime; 

Or bind into his lyric sheaves 

Some tints and shades of autumn's leaves; 

Or find some word so deep and strong 

That winter's wind blows through his song; 

Or touch his lyre in softer mood, 

Like snowflakes falling in the wood; 

Or catch the spirit of the spring, — 

The tree's translated blossoming. 

There lovers come and fondly tell 

The story love e'er loves so well. 

And who shall doubt when all may see 

Love thrives the best beneath a tree, 

Where grass is green and branches low 

Are moving in the breezes so 

No note of discord may invade 

The holy quiet of the shade. 

No doubt the children there will find 
A playground pleasing to itheir mind, 

10 



WHO PLANTS A TREE 

And there will run, day after day, 
Till spots of grass are worn away 
By little feet that come and go, 
Sometimes so swift, sometimes so slow ; 
And then, — the heartache and the pain ! — 
Two little feet come ne'er again. 
The parents' love then seeks the tree 
To feel its quiet sympathy ! 

Go ye out, then, and plant a tree. 

Plant it true and tenderly. 

Training it so lovingly, 

Faithfully in memory 

Of the loved one gone before 
To the dim and distant shore 
Of eternity! 

From mountain high, down to the sea. 
He loveth best who plants a tree! 

CANTO IV 

It may be that your hand shall train 
An oak to grow and spread amain 
And scorn the power of wind and rain 

11 



WHO PLANTS A TREE 

And all the elemental hail 
That comes the giant to assail, 
While every storm that bends it low 
But helps to make it sturdier grow, — 
Thus ever stronger stands the tree 
Because of rude adversity. 

That oak may grow in pasture land. 

Where every roving gipsy band 

Of blithesome birds may camp, and where 

Its leaves can catch from out the air 

The secrets of the atmosphere 

Held by the waves, and make them clear 

To birds and all that understand 

The whisperings of the air and land. 

Maybe the Jerseys to the shade 

Up from the filling pastures wade ; 

And, chewing cuds, some lie, some stand 

And grunt in fullness; this their land 

Of sweet content, this fitting place •• 

For foster-mothers of our race, — 

These uncrowned queens of pure descent. 

Whose useful lives are wholly spent 



12 



WHO PLANT S A TREE 

In service and humility, — 
Companions fitting for the tree. 

About the tree ripe. grain may stand, 
The finished promise of the land, 
And harvesters, as 'round they go. 
Drop gathered sheaves in rank and row, — 
Potential loaves of needed bread 
For every land that must be fed 
From our abundance. To the shade 
The toilers come, and there is laid 
A snowy cloth, on which they find 
The "forenoon piece,** the very kind 
Of pie and cheese and bun and cake 
The country mothers love to make. 

The "water boy," of course, comes late 
For thirsty tongues, and these berate 
His lagging steps; but, heedless, he. 
With pie in hand, sprawls 'neath the tree 
And smiles at Ruth, who sits apart, 
A song of summer in her heart. 
And breezes 'mongst her curls at play, — 
For breezes what a holiday! 

13 



WHO PLANTS A TREE 

This hour has glorified the day 
For those who toil. Ruth goes her way 
From shading tree of waving leaves, 
Far down the field among the sheaves. 

No longer go our Ruths afield 

To carry home the scanty yield 

That gleaners get: the homes they keep 

Where rest the hearts of those that reap. 

CA!NTO V 

No fairer sight can mortal see 
Than blossomed-crowned apple tree, 
A thousand tints make up the bloom; 
A thousand odors, the perfume, — 
No flaunt nor flare of sweetness, just 
The kind of sweetness one can trust, 
The kind that kindles joy, and more. 
Gives promise of ripe fruit in store. 
All seasons' efforts are combined 
To make the best of apple-kind. 
And sun and soil their powers unite 
To get the finest flavor right. 

14 



IV H O PLANTS A TREE 

Thus, when the days of autumn come, 
Behold the fruit that's carried home! 

Rare, rare the nights of winter days! — 

When at the hearthstone center ways 

Divergent through the day's employ. 

Who ever knew a better joy 

Than shutting door and drawing blind, 

All love before, all else behind? 

The fire of blazing logs outthrows 

A song of how the forest grows : 

A hundred years to make the oak 

That falls beneath the woodman's stroke, — 

To have the blazing log now come 

Unto the altar of a home, 

For one night's warmth and homely cheer, — 

A beauteous thing, but costing dear. 

But, after all, content are we 

To be the heirs of such a tree. 

The mother and the children there. 
And playthings scattered everywhere, 
And easy chairs and slippered feet. 
And all the apples all would eat. 

15 



WHO PLANTS A TREE 

For friends to come, still plenty more, — 
A generous share we put in store 
To gladden those who come to grace 
And cheer awhile our dwelling place 
And bring a thought, or vision new, 
That helps, is clean, that loves, is true. 

Stir up the fire ! For mine and me 
This oak has grown a century. 
Away with gloom and chilling frost! 
The fire is worth quite all it cost! 
Another apple, if you please. 
The generous plant apple trees. 

CANTO VI 

Nearby the public schoolhouse stood 
A birch that grew enough of wood 
To keep us youngsters pretty good. 
Severe the pruning, till we found 
The branches high above the ground. 
On tiptoe teachers we would see 
Stand looking up into the tree, 
Where wished-for twigs hung tauntingly. 

16 



WHO PLANTS A TREE 

Then came there one who on tiptoe 

Could reach about ten feet or so, 

And thus could pick and choose them o'er, 

Those switches man ne'er touched before; 

And all through every lower limb 

The tree a harvest was to him ; 

And when he flogged, each would agree 

That birch was a "prime evil" tree. 

Then came a little Miss to teach, — 
We laughed to think she'd never reach 
Those birch-boughs high above her head. 
But once, when Bill and Jack and Ned 
And many more had broken rule 
And made a riot in the school, 
The teacher with determined will 
Just linked us, boy on boy, until 
The topmost one the boughs could reach, — 
A human chain across the breach. 
To choose one's rod! — alas, that lent 
Sharp irony to punishment! 
Now scattered like its leaves are we 
Who then played 'round that schoolhouse tree. 
Those maids are maitrons; men, those boys, 
And some have gone beyond earth's joys, 

17 



IV H O PLANTS A TREE 

And some have names we number great 
In work they chose ; but, — such is fate ! — 
The most of us are just such folk 
As pass along beneath the yoke 
That life fits on. With hoe and hook, 
With square and planev, or pen and book, 
We keep at work and onward pass, 
Just as at school, — the middle class. 

In those schooldays we never knew 
Nor cared to ask to whom was due 
Thanks for that tree of grateful shade, 
Where, free from books, we romped and played. 
No annal tells his name; but he 
Gave us a precious legacy, — 
For in the memories of us all 
At times that birch tree's blossoms fall. 

CANTO VII 

I loved a man who planted trees: 
Most loved of all love's memories 
Was when he walked and talked with me 

18 



WHO PLANTS A TREE 

'Mong vine and shrub and bush and tree, — 

Of all of them so lovingly, — 

His trees of fruits, his trees of blooms, 

Of nuts, of colors, shapes, perfumes; 

He brought them in from near and far. 

Where secrets of the deep woods are, 

From hill and vale and sunny place, 

The foundling ones of every race. 

He knew the needs of each; and so 

He planted them where they would grow, 

And gave them such a father's care 

They grew for him just everywhere. 

He kept their records in his heart; 

And, when he walked with friends, apart, 

Among his trees, his converse ran 

From love of trees to love of man. 

Exalted thus, the ways he trod 

Led ever upward unto God. 

And so he passed; but still for me 

He liveth on in vine and tree. 

CANTO VIII 

Why not, therefore, plant a tree? — 
And, like it, so gracefully 
19 



WHO 



PLANTS 



TREE 



Meet life's changes that men say: 
"He grows younger every day; 
Every Spring renews his youth; 
Till it seems, in very truth, 
That by art or wizardy 
He saps vigor from his tree." 

Beneath your vine and fig tree, — now 
Far past the use of hoe or plow, — 
Far past ambition's urging spur, 
Away from every buzz and burr 
Of all the busy world outside, 
You now in peace can there abide, 
While waiting on Life's harvest-ground 
Until the Reaper comes around. 

Who plants a tree, plants life. Thus we 
May plant for immortality. 
For who shall say how cycles run 
From age to age, when once begun? — 
Or who appraise the lives, indeed, 
That lie enfolded in a seed? — 
Or say how high the eye may be 
Trained upward-looking by a tree? 

20 



